<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Daily Commute by wildcard127</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24871417">Daily Commute</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildcard127/pseuds/wildcard127'>wildcard127</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Polygon/McElroy Vlogs &amp; Podcasts RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Elevator Sex, M/M, Public Masturbation, Sex Toys Under Clothing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:49:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>572</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24871417</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildcard127/pseuds/wildcard127</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Getting off on the elevator.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Brian David Gilbert/Patrick Gill</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Daily Commute</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A sharp gasp is quickly followed by a series of forced coughs as Brian shifts uncomfortably, attempting to conceal both his outburst and his current state. He does his best to maintain composure as the throng filling the elevator seems to pay him little mind, whether it was because of the early hour or a foreknowledge of him.</p>
<p>Clearing his throat softly Brian gazes up at the figure next to him, at Pat, as he casually scrolls through his phone with one hand. The other hand is also occupied, though with something far different than morning emails.</p>
<p>Brian stiffens as he feels strong fingers move lightly beneath his shirt, across the small of his back and down to the waistband of his pants. He looks straight ahead again, his mouth set in a thin line as he wonders if anyone can hear the steady thrum of his heart.</p>
<p>From the corner of his eye Pat watches as his friend suffers delightfully, a small smile curling the corner of his mouth. Returning his eyes to the screen of his phone he lets his fingers roam further down, across smooth skin. Down. Down. At last he finds what he’s searching for, his fingers grazing it lightly but the effect is immediate.</p>
<p>Brian jolts visibly and exhales into his backpack, which he had moved to his front to allow for easier access. To the elevator. Right, the elevator. He bites at the nylon fabric of the backpack and presses himself back against the rear wall of the elevator. He watches anxiously as the doors open and another rider exits. Just two more, then he can-</p>
<p>Pat curls his fingertips around the small disc and pulls gently, watching with silent delight as Brian’s head snaps to him, glaring indignantly. Smirking, seemingly at something on his phone, Pat pulls a little more before pressing back in.</p>
<p>Brian begins to tremble with frustration and waning restraint as the doors mercifully open again, the final two people stepping out. One of them looks back at the pair and smiles knowingly as the doors close.</p>
<p>With the elevator now theirs Brian draws a breath, a breath which heralds an earful, but Pat silences him. Turning to face his stricken friend, Pat pulls on the disc again, the flare of the plug sending waves of sensation across Brian’s nervous system.</p>
<p>Alone, save for the small dome of the security camera in the corner, Brian’s mouth falls open and he mewls. He presses sweating palms against the cool metal of the elevator doors, leaving unmistakable handprints on the brushed metal finish as Pat works.</p>
<p>It isn’t long, perhaps less than a minute, before Brian bucks and collapses against the doors. He gasps and grunts frantically as he feels the wave cresting over him, a ringing in his ears and a telling warmth spreading across the front of his pants. Entirely spent, he staggers forward as Pat extricates his hand, the pair looking at each other for a long moment.</p>
<p>Before either can speak the perforated vent on the elevator panel clicks to life and fills the small space with a familiar voice. “Thank you. Same time tomorrow?” With that the doors slide open as if on cue.</p>
<p>Pat tucks his phone into his pocket and looks from Brian to the security camera. “Sure thing.”</p>
<p>Behind him, Brian looks down and groans at the dark wet spot staining his tan pants. “Patrick Gill.”</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>